The Westen Team Operational Log: No 6
by Escribe
Summary: Bomber beware follow-up:  Team operation No 6. After several successful and easy operations Michael and the team must rescue one of their own, but they run into much more than they bargained for.
1. Chapter 1

The Westen Operation Log: No.6

Chapter 1: Fi's View

Michael watched the sailboat fly along the surf in the blue green water of Miami's Atlantic Ocean. He sipped his morning coffee and watched through the open glass doors. Fi had done a great job finding the new apartment and even came in under his budget. With the down turn in the market, great apartments were now a steal. He was still amazed at what she had done. Couches, chairs, tables of all sorts and a large flat screen TV, all a spy could ask for or not. It was more than he could ever remember owning and all in all, it was a little scary.

Though as Fi said, this was now their home, and so they maintained the loft as a place to work. There had been a lot of changes in Michael's life, some for the better, but some that made him a little more than uncomfortable. Fi moving in was the biggest change. He hadn't lived with anyone in a long time and again she was right. If she was going to be there most nights, she might as well be there most days. She did understand when he chose to sleep at the loft on that lumpy mattress on occasion. She did understand him.

Fi walked toward him from the shower, her long hair wrapped in a fuzzy white towel and her body wrapped in her silky and very clingy white robe. She walked to him and removed the coffee cup from his hand while placing her other hand around his middle and pulling him into her.

"You smell nice, new cologne?" she asked.

"I'm glad you like it. It was a gift from our last client. She thought it would smell nice on me too." He knew Fi was well aware of the advances of Mrs. Venetian, but Michael had been as professional as possible.

Fi smiled. "If you are trying to get me jealous, you are doing a good job. Now, how about you reassure me and come back to bed? We could set a new personal best!"

Michael smiled and leaned in and kissed her. "I would love to, but I still have to pay for all this and I have a meeting. Why don't you get dressed and come with me?"

"You are no fun Michael, but thank you for the invitation. Our new bedspread has come in and I wanted to go and pick it up as well as find matching shams and new towels. In addition my new gun has come in, and it is gorgeous! How about dinner?" She answered.

"Have you forgotten that my mother is expecting us? You can call and cancel, but I am not."

"Michael, are you afraid of your mother?"

"No." He said in a child like tone and looked away from her back out at the water.

Fi smiled. " I will meet you there. Six sharp. Try not to be late."

Michael watched her turn and walk down the hall. She was something to watch.

Carlitos was busy for lunch but Michael was able to find a quiet table in the corner. A table that suited him perfectly. Ordering an iced tea he sat back and read the letter again that was in the mailbox at the loft. He wanted to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Code was written through the entire note.

Dear Michael,

Congratulations on completing five stages since your return. It truly is good to have you back. You and your team have been very successful in tracking down priceless art on our pet project. JP has several up coming auctions already in the pipeline and it looks like you will be busy for several more months.

I hope your arm is improving. Please be more careful when golfing. I will need you to do me a little favor. A friend of mine is coming to town on the 22nd can you have lunch with him. He has a special piece that I think you should look at.

Your friend and colleague,

James

The director had a sense of humor and his letter was cleverly dotted with information he always did and apparently Michael was now a dealer of fine art, thus the apartment and the fine furnishings to go with it. They were all part of the master plan, something Fi loved. Michael looked like he had a new life and a new job. With a gun running girlfriend at his side, his squeaky image was now a little more than tarnished. He would hide in the open, just as he had always done.

The list was being reviewed one name at a time and teams were picking them off slowly and methodically. Michael and his team getting the bulk of the work. Five men and two women in six weeks and Jesse was working on more. By now the organization must be nervous he thought and hopefully not desperate. Everyone was being cautious. Even he was. They knew he was the source, but not the punishment. He was sure for now they were keeping their heads down, but he was always aware that they could come after him and his team if the news got out.

Washington made it very clear that for now, Michael was to still look burned. An undesirable. He was happy with that. It helped his cover. Now he moved through the underbelly of Miami, living two lives. An art dealer dealing more than just art.

The director needed to tell him something and thus the lunch was set. Government business hidden behind a lunch at a local restaurant. Perfect he thought. Messages were passed through more undesirables. People hired to deliver messages, people that could be bought. No direct contact, ever.

The man sat down directly across fro him. He was neatly dressed in Miami ware, older even a little gray hair around the edges. Michael had not seen him before, he was new.

"Good, now I can order. I'm starving." Michael said without introducing himself.

"I have something for you to take a look at. I need an estimate on its worth."

"Of course, but let's order first."

The man grabbed the menu and together lunch was ordered.

Once the waitress had gone, the man pulled the bag from below his chair and carefully removed the small painting.

Michael looked it over, turning it and getting different light.

"It's very nice. What do you want to do with it?"

"It needs to sell quickly, do you have a market?"

"I do. How quickly?

"As fast as possible."

Michael finished lunch over small talk and returned to the loft. He placed the painting on the work bench face down and began examining the frame. It was nearly seamless, and someone less trained would have missed it, but in the side the wood was a little looser and he used his exacto knife to cut the edges to expose the wire. Then the wire, small and delicate was connected to the small battery-operated device and a hum inside the frame began gearing up. Michael stepped back. It he was correct it would stop in a moment and he would be able to open it. If not, the device would smoke then burn. It too was clever.

The frame opened, a small hinge popped up as a small compartment was revealed. Inside a flash drive. Michael placed it inside his pocket. Here was not the time or place. After dinner he would show the team.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry, I forgot to add this to the other chapter:**

**I do not own any of these characters, I am simply putting them in new situations for fun and not for profit.**

Chapter 2: Valid Points Please review

Michael shuffled his feet slightly as he walked up the steps to the front door. The Street behind him was quite, just like it was when he was a kid. He remembered playing out there, baseball, frisbee, catches and in the evenings a large game of manhunt with all the neighbor hood kids, that is until the bugs drove them inside.

Michael looked back. There had been some memorable days out there. Now it was just quite. Just like this home. There had been bad times, terrible times, life altering times, but there had been good times, smiles and laughter with love. It hadn't all been bad

"Michael are you just going to stand out there all night? Come in." His mother said as she opened the door to the house.

"Coming ma." Michael answered back and looking away from the street.

"What are you staring at Michael?" She asked as he walked into the room with the table set for dinner and Sam standing with his back to him as he stirred something on the stove.

"Nothing." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "What is for dinner?" he said to change the subject and watching Sam.

Maddie placed her hand over the kiss, surprised by her son's sudden show of affection."Sam is making some sauce for the baked potatoes and I am grilling steaks." She looked at him nervously. "I have to get out there. I left them on."

Michael watched as Maddie saunters off to go to the Barbeque outside.

His life had turned a new page, and it was a good chapter for him.

"Can I help with something Sam?" Michael said entering the kitchen.

"Hey Mikey, you can help by getting the some pesto paste out of the fridge for me. I have something very special planned."

"Sounds good! Where's Fi? I thought she would be here by now."

"She was here. Maybe she is outside with Maddie."

Mike found the pesto paste for Sam before heading outside. The grill was smoking and so was his mother.

"Are they nearly done?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, just a minute. I hope you are hungry."

Mike smiled at her. "I brought my appetite." Rubbing his tummy.

Maddie smiled at him and stamped out her cigarette. "If you are looking for Fi, she is in the garage. Tell her to hurry. Dinner is about five minutes away."

"I will."

Michael walked into the dimly lit room of the garage. He could hear things be moved around before he could see her shadow.

"Fi?" he called out.

"Hello Michael, how was your day?" Fi said smiling in a white linen dress as she approached him. With the light from the open door of the garage behind her, he could nearly see through it.

"It was good." He said grabbing her around the middle and kissing her softly on the lips. "It could have been better." He said with a grin.

"Michael, are you thinking of what I am? In your mother's garage?" She kissed him back.

He kissed her neck and the top of her shoulder where the strap to the loose-fitting dress rested before cupping his hand softly across her breast. "I hope so" he whispered back as she moaned slightly. He pressed himself against her as he felt down the dress and pulled up the hem before he let his hand slide under and around her back to find the curve of her bottom.

"You really did miss me today." She said enjoying the warm tingle all over her body and kissing his neck.

"I did. I thought about your offer all day."

"That sounds delicious. Should we just skip dinner and make our apologies." She said teasing him and unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt.

"We can if you like."

"DINNER!" came the scream behind him as his mother stepped in the doorway and then backed out just as quickly as Michael removed his hands from Fi and they quickly let each other go like two school age kids.

Fi giggled and wrapped her arms around him and squeezed his buttocks. "Nice try Mr. Westen, you didn't think I was that easy, did you?"

"No, but I was hoping." He said smiling back. "Let's eat."

The four of them sat at the dinner table. Michael poured the wine while Maddie dished out the meal. Placing a large dark char colored steak on each plate.

Michael cut in first, and cut and cut. The steak was like shoe leather as he wrestled a piece away from the plate and into his mouth and attempted to chew.

"How is it?" Maddie said smiling.

"It is great ma!" Michael answered, faking the smile. It was terrible. His mother was never a good cook, but she tried.

Sam just chewed and nodded his head, before washing it down with a large gulp of beer.

"So, we have another trip planned." Michael began trying to ignore the ruined steak on his plate.

"Oh yeah, more fun in the sun. They are getting a little boring." Sam responded.

"No, I believe it is something different this time. Jesse called me earlier. We have a six o'clock flight in the morning,"

Sam nearly choked on his steak."Six?"

"A little warning would have been nice Michael." Fi said slicing the thinnest piece off her steak. I have appointments tomorrow.

"I don't have control over this one. They need this taken care of ASAP."

"What will you be doing?" his mother asked. "And I hope you will be a little more careful than your last vacation." She said sarcastically. "Your injuries and bruises from that other fiasco a few weeks ago are probably just healing now."

Michael looked at his mother. "Of course we will be care ful Ma. It should be as simple as the last five missions Jesse has put together. Good plans make for good Ops."

Michael returned to the loft and waited for Fi and Sam. He placed the thumb drive in the side of a computer and loaded the information. While he waited, he removed the equipment from the storage cabinet needed for any mission and started a yogurt that was left in the fridge.

Sam and Fi arrived at the same time and Michael could hear them talking as they came up the stairs.

"All right, where are we going this time?" Sam began.

"South America, Bolivia." Michael said pressing the play button.

"Really, I hate south America. It's hot and sticky and buggy Mike."

"And Miami isn't?" Fi responded. "Play the mission information please."

Mike just smiled.

The mission debrief was a video message from someone in Washington. The unknown man sat behind a desk and spoke.

"Jonathan Cooper or Coop for short went under cover in Bolivia three years ago. He was able to get close to the Manuela Drug Cartel because of a girl he met. One we set him up with. She is the niece of Guillermo Manuela and one of his favorites since he does not have any children of his own. We set Coop up in the coffee business and he looked legal and prosperous. Manuela has already looked him inside and out and can't find anything wrong with his operation. He does sell coffee. Small amounts of special blends to specialty shops thanks to our department he looks like a coffee genius.".

"Nine months ago Coop married the girl and got even closer in the cartel. Manuela went all out for their wedding and has moved into Coops business. Exactly what we wanted. Now when he ships coffee, he ships Manuela's biggest crop, cocaine. We do regular checks on his stuff and monitor what is coming in and where it goes. Once the buy is made, we track it and bust some of it several layers down. Obviously we can't bust all of them. We need it to look legit. Manuela has been slowly increasing the amount he has been shipping through his company. Ten days ago we got news of a huge shipment leaving Bolivia for the US but our man disappeared three days ago. He has missed two check-ins and we need him back. He has enough information to put most of the cartel behind bars, and the operations here in the US. He is vital."

"We think he may be here in this region if he is still alive." A map appeared on the screen

and pictures as the man spoke in the back ground.

This picture is Jonathan Cooper, this one his wife Adrianna with her uncle Manuela. These pictures and your ID's will be sent to your phone 10 minutes before wheels up. New information will be on the airplane.

"Your cover will be one Miss Glennanne is familiar with. Gun running. We have set up a meeting with someone in the cartel for new weapons. A small case of these new Jungle rifles will be loaded on your plane. Good luck."

Michael looked at Fi to see her reaction. She was calmer than anticipated.

"Well, you two are just contractors, are you in?"

"I hate cartels, you know they come after you if you piss them off, and this is going to piss them off." Sam answered as he walked to the fridge for a beer.

"Sam is right, cartels are not the people you screw with. Jonathan is probably already dead. Why get involved? Why not just see if he is alive and get out clean?"

Mike thought for a moment. They had valid points. He dug into his yogurt and sighed loudly "I don't have the luxury of choice. I have to go. This is my job."

Sam looked at Fi. The other missions had been fine, so they never had a problem with them and this did not come up before. They had been contractors and thus always had a choice, now it was different. They could back out, but Mike could not.

"I'm in." Sam said just before Fi did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Burn notice never has a flash back, so I thought I would add one of my own.**

Chapter 3 Reviews please

The airplane flew low over the thick green vegetation of the rain forest below. A low puffy cloud hung at the base of a rolling hill just before the river came into view. The magnificent Amazon was below them. Its fast paced green brown water splashing over debris that crumbled and fell in the wake of its mighty path. All of the passengers aboard had to have a look as the early morning sky burned away at the mist.

Michael yelled through the headphones to the pilot of the six seats Cessna," How long?"

"You will be on the ground in 10." He answered back.

Michael sat back as his fingers gripped the arms of the seat. He had to remind Jesse about the problem he had with smaller planes. It was something he tried and failed many times to get over.

Fi noticed his discomfort and rubbed his sleeve before grabbing his hand. She knew of the incident in the plane and had been slightly to blame. Michael had gone on a buy with her years earlier. She was looking to buy some high grade C-4, her favorite from a group of French Foreign legionnaires who were selling the merchandise off-the-books and off the boat. He was tagging along and trying to get close to the group's leader. He had another project for them and this was his in.

Fi had rented a plane and a pilot named Brady that helped her with her "special" projects and the three of them took off from the south of Ireland to the coast of France and landed on a deserted road just after dusk. A team below lit the road with car headlights.

Michael watched Fi exit the plane and head for the group waiting just in a clearing not far from the road. Michael was to wait inside the plane and come when she signaled, an AK-47 loaded and ready in his hands. He didn't like the plan, but it was hers and she knew them better than he would ever.

With the wind from the water behind him, he couldn't hear what she was saying to the group of four men that stood around her. But she was not nervous, several times she looked like she was laughing, but he could not tell if it was a tense laugh.

Finally the signal. Leaving the AK, he checked his colt taped to his upper back. They would check him, but he didn't think they would be that good.

"So who is this?" the man in front said, seemingly in charge.

"He is my lover, but he makes a great body guard, don't you think?" Fi said laughing.

The men looked at her and Michael and laughed. Michael felt uncomfortable but the mood seemed relaxed enough for what it was

"So are we ready to do this deal?" The man said as a phone rang behind him.

"I'm ready, your guns are in the plane, I just need my product and we can do the exchange.

"Fiona, you have twenty guns as we discussed on the phone?"

"Of course Jacques. I am a woman of my word. Don't I always get you what you want?"

Jacques smiled, " Not always, but we can talk later. Maybe over a glass of wine and some good French food, hey."

"Jacques" A man yelled from behind and handed him the phone.

The man spoke in French and Fi followed along.

"Crap" Fi said turning to Mike. "Let's get out of here. Call me Roberto when it is a better night."

The leader leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Soon" he said in English."

Michael looked at Fi. French was another language he did not speak. "What?" Michael said following her to the plane.

"The French police are on the way we have to leave now." She said climbing into the airplane.

Michael just followed. His lead was gone in a blink of an eye. He followed her and the pilot started the engine when the first bullet ricocheted off the skin of the plane.

"They are firing on us." Michael said as he heard more pings hit the side of the plane. The pilot turned the plane and the engines revved up as the plane jolted forward. Michael was thrown back as he struggled to close the door behind him. The rattle of bullets outside increased until a bullet broke through the outer hull and bounced around harmlessly inside the cockpit.

"Step on it." Michael said with gritted teeth.

"I'm going as fast as I can with this head wind, settle down." The pilot responded.

Michael tried to right himself with the increasing gravity forces while attempting to lean back in his chair uncomfortably listening to the pinging of bullets. He struggled for the strap that was caught in the equipment that moved slightly in the initial jolt. The plane continued to race down the road as the lights from the cars vanished behind them until Michael felt the sting. A second bullet had broken through the outer hull and pinged around inside before landing in his side. He grabbed the wound as the plane lifted off the ground and began to glide into the night sky. He knew he needed to engage the seat belt. Breathing heavily he lay back again when the forward momentum of the plane felt like it froze in midair.

"Hold on. They have hit something. We are going in." The pilot screamed as his hands raced around equipment and pressed levers and switches.

Mike clung to the seat as his fingers fumbled for the seat belt. He could see the approaching water as the pilot screamed, "Brace, Brace, Brace."

The buckle wouldn't behave and Michael quickly wrapped his arms around the nylon straps before being flung violently forward in the plane. Darkness came quickly.

He woke in the water, the coldness of it and the darkness as the plane filled with it. Sound seemed muffled and it took more than a moment for the feeling to pass and for the words to make sense. Fi was pulling him, dragging at him.

He shook the feeling and went with her trying to ignore the feeling in his side. Water poured into the cabin making movement difficult at its best. The pilot was already ahead of them making his way out to the night sky and Fi pulled at Michael. Urging him to move quicker as the hull sunk deeper and deeper.

Finally the three of them stood on the portion of the plane that remained floating. In the distance, lights from the vehicles that chased them danced in the night and highlighted the shore. Wind moving across the North Atlantic blocked any sound there might have been other than the howl.

"We are going to have to swim." The pilot began pointing to the farthest shore of the cove.

Fi agreed and Michael stood dazed. "Michael are you OK?" she asked.

"I'm fine. " He answered slowly.

Fi jumped into the water first and the others followed. Michael found it difficult not to be out of breath and he worried about the blood in the water and what might be lurking just below the surface. He could see them ahead of him swimming strongly as he fell further and further back.

Fi looked back several times and each time his distance from her grew, until his arms barely swung and even in the night he could see he was struggling to keep his head above water.

"What is wrong with you?" she asked. Keep swimming."

Michael struggled, he could see the shore, but with each passing moment he knew he would not make it.

"I can't." He finally sputtered. "A bullet...in my...side. I can..n't swim...any more." He struggled to get it out swallowing water and choking with a cough.

"Brady, help me. He's been shot." Fi yelled to the pilot far ahead as she grabbed at Michael to hold him up. He couldn't hear her as he kept swimming for the far shore, far from the lights.

Fi turned Michael over in the water letting him float on his back and pulling at his shirt collar.

Looking at the night sky was the last he remembered.

Fever and pain consumed him for almost three days in a small deserted shack on the coast of France. Several times he woke to the same night mare of the plane crashing into the water and the coldness of the water rushing over his body before it choked and woke him. Fi by his side the entire time she held him close.

Police in the area made it impossible for them to move and twice search teams had nearly found them in the crawl space of the small sea captains long ago home. Brady had dared to leave the night before hoping to break through the web of security still searching the coast. For a while Fi though he might have just kept going to Ireland, but around lunch time on the third day a truck from the National Sea Shore Preservation department showed up. Brady was there to"take samples." With the presence of police thinning, he easily moved them to the truck and left the area.

It was another week before Michael could walk without wincing. It was much longer before he got on a small airplane again. This one though glided over the lush valley below and found the landing strip it was looking for. The pilot set the plane down with ease as Michael stepped from the plane onto the runway in the Amazon Basin of Bolivia. For the area, drug central.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Down Stream

Michael stepped from the plane and put out his hand for Fi. Though she would never say it, she frequently still liked a man being a man and a woman being a woman. She smiled and patted his bottom as she exited. The airport was remote but remarkably well maintained with thick dense vegetation surrounding it.

"I have never been to Bolivia before." She said stepping out into the sun,

"Actually Fi, Puerto Maldonado is in Peru. We are close to the Bolivian border. It is just down river. We will be in Riberalta by sun down."

"As long as the Hotel has a shower." Wiping the sweat from her neck as she lifted her long hair from her shoulders. "I will be happy."

Michael felt the drip of sweat down his own back and swatted a mosquito from his arm.

"For once I agree with Fi, Mike. I hope we can wrap this up quickly." Sam added as he climbed from the rear of the plane while grabbing his duffle bag. "South America is not my favorite place."

"Me too." Mike added

"ASAP, that is my moto when dealing with South America. Now how are we getting to Riberalta?" Sam asked.

"Jesse said a car would pick us up and take us to the river. That is the easiest way to travel here."

Before he was done speaking, a car arrived.

"I should book more trips with your travel agent Michael. They seem to have their times right."

Michael smiled at Fi as he watched her walk to the car.

The car took them to the Madre de Dios River. A wide river of brown water from the Amazon Basin. When they arrived, they met Juan, a young man with light brown skin, dark eyes and thin features. He ran the boat they would take down the river to their destination.

The boat was old and was in need of a paint job, but it seemed sturdy enough as the group boarded with their equipment. Juan was their affable boat captain that seemed to watch every move they made. It could have been pure curiosity, but they would not take any chances. Since a sun baked canvas cover gave them their only relief from the scorching sun in the tropical heat there would not be anywhere to hide.

Michael checked the bags before they were under way. He wanted to make sure all was loaded before they pushed off from the land. When he found it to be in good order he divided the things he and Fi would keep and the things Sam would take with him. When they arrived, they would be separate entities. Sam's cover would be a biologist on the hunt for a new tropical species supposedly reported in the area they were traveling to. Fi and Mike would just be a couple, hiking on a trip. Looking for a little adventure. Satellite phones would keep them dialed into Jesse and to each other. Splitting up would allow them to cover more of an area and allow for fewer prying eyes and less questions

It took several hours for the rickety boat to cover the distance and pass into the Beni River. Same Sam had them stop several times to take water and soil samples as part of his cover while Mike rolled his eyes. Fi took full advantage and pulled Mike from the boat each time. They would hike a hundred yards into the thickness of the forest. They had to make it look good.

Michael had discussed the cover before the operation. They were all in agreement. The plane would drop them far from their destination. They would make their way there strengthening whatever cover they could before arriving. After all river boat captains in this part of the world were known for their information. If there was trouble, they would return to where they came from to meet up, or get out if they could.

Riberalta was bigger than Puerto Maldonado, though it was a similar setting of simple homes, some business and a row of boats that looked oddly the same as Juan's. Here there was a church, an official looking building and several cafes that served local food as well as a few simple inns and a hotel.

"You see me if you want to go back." Juan said in broken English to his passengers as they unloaded.

Fi smiled at the handsome young face. "Si, no problema."

Juan smiled back.

Sam took a taxi to his hotel, the Mayan Hotel. A local spot with friendly people and a relaxed atmosphere. The bar down stairs rounded it out for Sam.

Fi and Michael took a taxi t their hotel. The Colonial was an upscale resort hotel which included a luxury pool with comfortable lounges and AC and private baths in each room. For the middle of the Amazon, this was luxury

Fi immediately changed into a bikini, kissed Michael on the lips and was headed out the door while he was still trying to unpack.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Michael, we are supposed to blend in and look like tourists. How am I supposed to do that up here?"

"Fi " Michael said, almost condemning her.

"Michael, how is a girl to have fun in the Amazon stuck in this room. I will meet many more people down at the pool. You do know you could get changed and join me instead of being an old fuddy duddy."

"Did you call me a fuddy duddy?" he said with a smirk, already knowing he would lose the battle.

"I did, and you are." She said opening the door and leaving.

Mike stood with his hands on his hips and took a large sigh. He knew her well. Today would be no exception. Quickly he removed the two Barettas from his pack and the pieces for the rifle that had been divided between two packs. He found some floor boards that were loose and with a little pressure they released allowing enough space below them to store the weapons. A throw rug over the top hid the boards. Looking around he staged the room. Hiking equipment everywhere. Passports of a young couple in the front pocket. Now they looked like tourists.

Michael grabbing his swim suit and heading for the door. If someone was interested they would find the basics.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: New connections

Sam put the fork down on the plate as the woman walked by his table. He recognized her from the pictures. She sat three tables away. Young and beautiful with dark green eyes and long brown flowing hair, she was unmistakable and remarkable. The heat and humidity didn't seem to affect her the way it effected him.

It had taken all four days to find out that Jonathan Coopers wife frequently ate breakfast at this cantina with or without her husband. Today she was here, and he wasn't. Sam wasn't surprised. He still had not checked in with his handler and the trail was getting colder with each passing day.

Information had been slow moving. A visit to his coffee shop and storage had yielded very little in the way of information into his disappearance. If people knew something, they were being very quiet about it. His employees continued their work. Coffee beans came in from their farmers. They were processed, bagged and shipped out. They did not talk about where their boss might be.

Sam had gotten inside. His cover was investigating a new bug. One that had been reported in small cases to eat coffee beans. A devastating possibility since the entire region grew coffee. With this cover, he was able to go into Cooper's coffee house to take samples. It took some convincing, but ultimately it worked. Once there he could ask questions and demand to see the boss after a harmless planted bug was found. Unfortunately, the employees were not talking. He managed to get close to one and she only revealed where to find his wife. Maybe she would know where to look.

So Sam had breakfast each morning and looked for the woman. Finally she had come. This was his opportunity. Approaching the table he removed his hat. "Good morning" he said looking around. He knew she was being followed and waited as two men approached him.

"Why do you bother this woman? She is here for a few moments of relaxation." A large man of dark complection and larger features said with some force.

"I am sorry to bother you, Miss." Sam began as the man pushed him back. "I am from the ICGA, The International Coffee Growers Association I was sent because of the bug found in your coffee." He rambled as he was getting shoved.

"Wait!" The woman said. "Let him join me."

The two men looked at the woman and then back at Sam while letting him go.

Sam fixed his shirt and came back to the table.

"I am sorry about my...cousins." She smiled as she hesitated. "There has been a lot going on here. They are just worried about me. Please sit, Mr . . . "

"Mr. Finley." He pulled up a chair and sat across from her. As the two men sat down behind him at a table that was very close.

"I know of your organization. My husband spoke of it many times in his business."

"Is he around, I would love to talk to him?"

"I am sorry. He is... away at the moment."

Sam noticed her face change and a look of worry filled it for a moment until one of the men behind Sam looked in her direction.

"On business." She continued.

"Do you know how long he will be gone?" Sam asked to see if he could get more out of her.

"His business sometimes takes him away for weeks if not months." She said looking past Sam to the man behind him.

Sam watched as she looked at the men and then back to Sam again.

Sam smiled. This was good contact.

"Well, then let me get right to the point then. Will you be handling Coopers Coffee House in his absence?"

"I will, for now." She swallowed hard and blinked twice.

Sam knew to be careful. She was giving signals. Operative signals. Jonathan Cooper married this woman because he loved her and because he trusted her.

"I believe your coffee has been infested with the Reocto bug. As you know, it eats coffee beans, not only in store houses, but also in the wild. If it does not get eliminated soon, it will multiply and destroy the crops in this area."

"I need a little more access to your coffee stores, but also to the crop. It is a simple bug to defeat, but it must be found. There is a nest somewhere."

"Of course. I will help you any way that I can. This business means more to me than you think. I will call and allow you full access. Maybe later today we can meet for dinner?"

"I would like that Mrs. Cooper. You can contact me at the Mayan Hotel. Please "

Sam returned to his table and watched her go. She was followed by the two men who escorted her to her SUV and then driven from the restaurant. He hoped she had not revealed too much.

Sam hurried back to his hotel and removed the Satellite phone tapped to the bottom of the bed.

"Mike. I made contact. She came to breakfast."

"That is great. Did you get anything?"

"I mentioned the ICGA and she gave me real information Mike. I think she is in."

"What does that mean?"

"I think she was working with Cooper. She recognized the code. She gave me as much as she could with two body guards present."

"You think she wants to help."

"Yes I do. We are meeting for dinner tonight."

"Good, maybe it will get me out of this car. See you after dinner." Mike said as he sat with Fi. Their car sitting in the shade of a palm tree with several native bushes surrounding it. It was good cover from the road. They had been there for the better part of two days and both were hot, tired and cranky. The road they were parked just out of sight of was the only road leading to the main compound of The Manuela Family. They hoped to get several cars that they could follow, but the task was easier said than done. Two days out here had been difficult. The weather and the bugs had not cooperated.

Yesterday they had two cars. Both followed by Sam, but one lead to a food store and the other to a bar and later to a brothel. Sam had followed and tried his hand at information in the bar, but it was a dead end. The man turned out to be kitchen staff that knew what they ate for dinner, but not where they held captives. Michael had hoped they might lead to where Jonathan Cooper might be, or to his wife. Either would be a start, but this op was slowly going no where.

"What did he say?" Fi said opening her eyes. It was her turn for a nap and the inside temp of the car had risen in the morning sun making it uncomfortable and nearly impossible to fall asleep again.

"He has a lead, Coopers wife made contact as we thought she might. She seemed to recognize the code."

"Is he sure?"

"Sam thinks so."

"That could be very dangerous for all of us if she is on the wrong side of the fence Michael."

"I know Fi, I know. We don't have anything else." Michael pressed his hand into his forehead and closed his eyes tight.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing." He shot back a little too quickly.

" Liar! That is about the fifth time I have seen you touch your forehead. Now what is wrong?"

He knew she would not leave him alone until she had an answer. He relented. "It is just a headache. It is from the heat."

Fi looked at Michael and squinted her eyes. "Michael, you have been in Miami for four years and you don't sweat." She reached across to feel his forehead and the perspiration soaking his brow. She pulled back quickly. "Michael, you are burning up. How long have you had a fever?"

"I'm fine Fi. It's just the heat." He lied back to her. He could feel something growing within himself, but he had been trained to ignore it and move on, finish the mission.

"You are not fine, and tomorrow is a big day. You need to be at the top of your game for the buy tomorrow. Besides, I can do this without you."

"I'm not leaving you out here by your self."

"Michael, I will be fine. I can hike up to the compound again and take a few more photos. From there it is just a short hike down to the river. Juan and other captains go up and down that river all day. I will grab a lift and be back in a few hours."

"No. It is bad protocol to leave you out here by yourself. "

" It is bad protocol to have you out here when you are sick." She shot back.

He was about to respond when she continued.

"I need you well tomorrow. I need you to cover my back, and Sam can't now that he has made contact. If I get in trouble, I will take the sat phone. Help will be just a phone call away. Besides a day in bed will do you a world of good and save this operation. That buy tomorrow needs to go well and without a hitch. I can't order you to get some rest, but..."

"OK Fi." Michael said, knowing he would not win. "I will go back to the hotel."

Fi smiled and grabbed her back pack and climbed from the car. "I will wake you up when I get back."

"OK." He hesitated.

She could feel his delay. "Go Michael!" She demanded.

He took a deep breath, looked at her through the open window and pressed on the gas. She was right, with the way he felt he was no good to her or himself. Rest is what he needed.


	6. Chapter 6

For anyone that has been affected by the terrible and violent occurrences in Japan, my heart and prayers go out to you and your family. May you be safe tonight...

Chapter 6: Lost Souls

Fi climbed the small brick wall with the overgrown vines to get to the path she had found the night before. The small walk was walled with a thick growth of the jungle beyond and nearly dark from the overhead canopy of leaves in the late afternoon sun. Water dripped from leaf to leaf as the humidity increased and the overhead sky prepared for a rain that wasn't far away.

She continued to walk forward knowing that she would have to find cover soon, but at least in the rain she would be able to hide all the way up to the compound walls. Fighting vegetation she moved slower than she would have liked.

The path opened up slightly as she rounded out the top of the hill and moved down an incline. Mud clung to her shoes as she felt the first drops of rain. The grayness of the darkened sky moved in quickly and she meandered through the forest looking for large wide leaves of any plant. Finding some elephant ears, she intertwined them and crouched below just in time for the sky to explode with large clear drops of warm rain as well as claps of thunder that shook the sky above and flashes of lightning that lit up the area below.

Waiting below in her makeshift overhang, she felt the movement behind her, long before she could see it. Figures moving along the path, she had been on until moments earlier. She watched as they came closer and she slowly eased her roof down to cover her face. Four in all, three of them carrying heavy bundles on their backs, another, in front carrying a weapon that looked something like a Browning Automatic Rifle. Though from this distance and this weather, she could not be sure.

She watched the four move slowly as the rain came down harder, making visibility almost impossible. She was sure she had never seen rain of this magnitude before. She watched as they slowed more, slipping in the slick wet under brush and finally putting their packs down and sitting partially under some foliage as they too waited for it to pass.

The ground below her feet became muddy as a stream of water ran down from the hill to her left and past her shoes. Its strength seemed to increase with every passing moment until the stream was more like a small river, tugging at her legs. She couldn't move, she couldn't run. They were too close they would see her movement. The weapon they carried would shred the surrounding trees as well as her if she tried to run. She was stuck.

Carefully she grabbed the over head hanging leaves for leverage as the flow of the water over her feet intensified as more and more of it moved down the hill. She watched the men close to her for signs that they had seen her. The longer she stood, the more difficult it was to hold on. She could feel the burn in her arms, hands and fingers. Frantically she looked around for a way out. The foliage around her was too thick to simply get through without a lot of noise and mess. Even in this down pour they would be watching for movement. She was sure they were carrying more than just bananans in those packs. It was enough to kill for.

Sweat had soaked her back and mingled with the rain as she clung for her life. The small stream of water had turned to a torrential wall of water plummeting down the hill as the already soaked earth could not hold any more of it. Her feet were slipping in the mud filled water and she knew she would have to move.

Gliding her hand back carefully along the branch she clung to, she inched back moving her feet slightly. Again another few inches, and another as she struggled with the ever growing pressure of the water now running as high as her knees. She was directly in the path of the water, pulling and pushing back. The branch above creaking with every hold until a crack.

The branch gave way slightly as she fought to grab another. Throwing her hand out, she missed as water poured through her legs holding her back. The weakened limb let go more as all the leaves around her began to wave like a flag. She didn't need to look to know that she was visible and floundering.

The tap tap tap of bullets hitting the leaves came instantly even in the rain. Now she was a clinging target as bullets increased in intensity from the automatic weapon. Holding on she could not get to her own weapon still on the pack on her back. A sting and a burn on her arm made up her mind for her as she let go of the canopy and splashed down into the rapid moving water. Trees, bushes and vines whipped past her as she struggled to keep her head above the water line.

She was losing the battle as the water shifted direction on the floor of the jungle, giving way to the path of least resistance. She was a rag doll being pulled and swayed in a plethora of directions. Nearing exhaustion she grabbed at anything scraping and cutting at her hands, until finally her fingers grabbed and it held. Pulling up with her remaining strength she searched for foot holds and found one. It was enough as she raised herself out of the water, climbing the muddy bank and landed with her back on the ground. Her face up to the sky that continued to rain and reign hell.

She lay breathing hard listening to the sounds of the surrounding jungle. They would be looking for her, she was sure of it. She lay there and thought twice about sending Michael off without her.

It wasn't like him to complain. Though he really didn't, but he also hadn't fought the idea of returning to the hotel they way she imagined he would. The headache must have been worse than she thought.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 : Hot Momma

The rain thundered down on the hood of the car as Michael tried to veer through the already difficult streets. Rain had made them impassable as he pulled off to the side of the road and turned the windshield wipers off.

He thought about returning for Fi. She was probably already soaked from the downpour and he wondered if he could find her with the pain in his head. He knew the trail she would be on. They both had traveled it last night as the ventured to the Manuela compound. Its high stucco walls with the extra large Spanish style sprawling country home made it the perfect get a way for any drug dealing cartel. The thick vibrant rain forest that surrounded it made it the perfect retreat.

Even Michael and Fi, both physically fit people found the trek up in the night difficult at best. He knew, sitting in the car with the rain coming down that he would not be able to make it. It did not happen often. He hoped she was all right, but she was strong in many ways and he knew that he would see her again.

The car idled roughly as it sat. The vehicle had been a loner from the hotel. It was a jeep rented out for excursions. Easily done on a company credit card. Movement in and out of the town needed to look legit for tourists. Michael slid the seat back and lowered his head. He didn't think it was possible for his headache to get worse, but it was. Closing his eyes helped, but only a little. Fi was right, what he had thought was just the outside temperature was indeed a fever. He had fought them before, it had been difficult, but he was healthy overall. He would be fine.

The AC felt good on his hot skin, until he started to shiver. It would get worse before it got better. Chills were just a fact of life for illness. Especially ones from the South American Rain forest. Chills were the body's own natural defense as it fought the internal bug trying to take over. He lay back knowing what was coming without medicine to treat the fever. He would have to wait it out, and the body would eventually relax. The shivering took over in the chair and he turned the AC down to counter act. The headache grew and reached ever crevice of his working mind.

He wasn't sure how long he shivered, or how long he slept after, but he woke in a sauna of heat and humidity. The car had turned off, though he might have done it, he wasn't sure. The rain out side has ceased and the sun shone again as the clouds moved on down the path of the wind.

Michael opened the door looking for relief, but there wasn't any. It was just as hot and humid outside. Checking the key for the car, it was still engaged. Backing off and turning again he got nothing. He tried again. "Damn it!" he said aloud hitting the steering wheel.

He rubbed at his neck hoping it would help with the pain behind his eyes, but it didn't. He sighed loudly to himself. He could try to fix what was wrong with the car and risk dehydration under the hood without tools, or he could try walking back to town and risk the same. Either way, he might have to walk back to town. Either way, they were bad choices.

Getting up from his seat, he began to walk. In his head he estimated that it was only four or five miles to the edge of town, and another mile or so to the hotel. Well and without a fever it would be hard in this heat, but sick and feverish he knew it would be more than difficult.

One foot in front of another was his constant moto as he struggled to do so. Every now and then he could hear a noise in the distance behind him and he turned hoping it was a car that might give him a lift. He walked on. His head pounding with each step until the chills returned. He wrapped his arms around his body as the fever engulfed him. Walking became impossible, his body convulsed with the shaking and he sought refuge below some trees. There, he found a soft mound of dirt covered in a moss like growth and lay down.

Lying there in the warm wet moss, he though of anything to keep his mind busy. His mom and the last day he had spent with her alone. He woke that day knowing he needed to take her to lunch and really talk. The team had just finished with their first op and he finally had some down time. Time he was usually uncomfortable with. Jesse had almost ordered him to have some time to relax. He was still healing from a bullet wound in his thigh and two in his left arm inches apart from one another. All had been minor, missing bone and arteries, but muscle still needed to heal.

"Michael?" his mother said as she saw him walk through the back door into the kitchen. She was just finishing a cigarette and put it out on the ashtray on the dining room table.

"Is everything OK?"

He smiled his charming smile at her. "Everything is just fine, I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch?"

"Why, what do you need?" She said cautiously.

He smiled at her again. She was right. He frequently took her for lunch when he needed her to do something. "You are right mom. I have done that a lot in the past, but not anymore. My life has turned a new page."

"Really." She said looking at his face. He looked sincere, but she was still unsure.

"Actually Mom, I don't have an Op at the moment. I am not working on a job. It is officially my day off and I just wanted to take you for lunch. No strings, I promise. It has been a crazy couple of months and I need to just sit down with you and tell you about the last few years of my life."

He could see the tears forming in her eyes. He had thought about it. When he was a kid, he could talk to her until his father came home, but as he got in more and more trouble, it became increasingly difficult. She would scold him frequently for his actions, but he tried to explain that he was doing things for her. He was providing food his father never did, clothing and transportation. If life had been normal, he would not have needed to do all those things, but they also made him who he was.

"Why don't you go and get dressed? How is the Fontainebleau?"

"Really Michael? I love that. It is my favorite?"

"I know mom, that is why I suggested it."

She had to turn from him. He could tell she was crying. "I will be just a few minutes."

"OK mom. No rush. We will leave when you are ready."

He would remember the large smile forever when she returned from the bedroom in her best Miami outfit and large white hoop earrings. She practically glowed. It was the happiest he had seen her in a while. This what he thought about as he drifted in and out of the haze of fever.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Second chances

Fi sat quietly at the top of the tree. She dared not breath and she feared the sweat soaking her forehead would drip down below to the search team. There were seven that she could count, all holding guns and breaking through the thick brush of the forest floor. They were looking for her, things had gone from bad to worse after the rain and now she hid.

She did what she was taught not to do. She went up as fast as she could and as quietly. Something Michael would have been disappointed at, but she didn't have a choice. When she had gotten herself free of the tangle of the sudden river, she made her way down to the main body of water. There she waited for a passing boat as she had originally planned, but soon she heard them. Moving through the vegetation. They did not hide their advance. They knew they had numbers on their side.

He found the closest tree with the most amounts of leaves still intact and hid the best she could. They searched below her, all around and back again. Several had looked up and missed her as they looked into the bright sun above. She was tried and worn out from the previous adventure of the day. She wished they would just move on, but they would not.

She cursed herself for being so stupid. "Of course they would check the river. Why would think anything else?" She herself would have a team blocking the road, the only road and then they would move in toward the river, trapping her just as they had. Fi closed her eyes. This was not time to beat herself up. She had to think of a way out before someone looked up and did not get a face full of sun.

Sam drank the beer and ordered another while looking at his watch again. The message from the hotel said that Mrs. Cooper was interested in an early dinner tonight since she had other business later in the day. The meal was set at 4:30 at the hotel restaurant. Sam wore his best Hawaiian shirt and arrived early. He continued to call Michael's sat phone, but after trying it for hours, he still did not get an answer and was ready to give up.

He had mentally battled himself when he couldn't reach the rest of the team. He had promised Mike to wait for him, but the opportunity would pass and it might be four more days before they had another chance at this woman and Sam made the decision. After all, it was his life he risked and at the moment there wasn't anyone to talk him out of it. He could worry about where the team was later. Now he needed to follow up on their only lead.

He watched her cross the terra cotta floors of the bar. Her heels must have been at least 6 inches long and her legs looked like six feet tall. Sam pulled his eyes up her thin black dress to her wavy black hair and into her eyes.

"Can I buy you a drink before dinner?" he said pulling the seat out next to him for her.

She slid into the seat and the slit down the side of the dress opened exposing her thin toned legs all the way up to her mid thighs. Sam watched, as did her two shadows. The same men from the breakfast earlier in the day. "Thank you." She said. "Martini, dry please."

Sam sipped his beer as she tasted her martini and he tried his best to keep his eyes on hers. It was hard, and she was beautiful. Sam always enjoyed a beautiful woman.

"I am afraid I cannot stay for dinner."

"I am disappointed" Sam said feeling like he missed something.

"My previous engagement was recently moved up and I must attend. Will you be here for a few more days?" She asked already knowing the answer.

"I was planning just a few more days. Will that be enough time?" Sam answered. Happy for the reply.

She smiled. "It should be." She said, finishing the drink and rising. "I am sorry I don't have much time. I do have to go. I will contact you soon. Will you be moving hotels?"

"No. I was going to stay here. Do you recommend somewhere else?"

"No, this is one of the nicer hotels." She said turning and walking for the door.

Sam sunk into his beer and watched her leave. It was a nice exit. Looking down at the bar he noticed the bar napkin was a different color from the others. Turning it over in his hand, he could see the writing on the bottom. He crumpled it up into his palm and put his hand into his pocket to retrieve some money to pay for the drinks and deposited it in his pocket.

She was a clever girl and Sam could see why Cooper liked her. She used her talents to drop that note, knowing that every man in the bar would watch as the material from that dress slid back and away from her legs. It was a clever ploy. Even Sam did not see her put the napkin down and place her drink on top of it. He immediately liked her and knew he could trust what was next.

She had given him other tidbits.

1. They would need to move in the next few days to get her husband. This confirmed that he was still alive, but not for long.

2. She would contact him at his hotel and he should not move. For now it was safe

Fi scrambled in the tree. She could see the boat moving down the waterway toward her. It was her last shot. Most of the group had moved back toward the interior when they reached the river bank and she was not there. They would retrace their steps. She would not have long.

Just one below her. Quietly she crept, one branch at a time and hoped he wouldn't move or look up. She still had quite a distance. Several more feet down, and he lit a cigarette.

"Good she thought" The knife from her ankle carefully cupped in her hand.

A few more feet, noise in the jungle began to pick up as they worked their way back toward the bank. The boat was rounding the final bend. It was now or never or she would not make it.

She swallowed hard and dropped the remaining few feet, landing on top of the man. Caught off guard, he swung at her and missed from behind. She got her balance. Raised the blade and slid it firmly across his neck. He could do nothing but grab for the open wound. Blood pumped fiercely. He was dead as he fell to the floor. There was no going back.. She had killed him to save herself. Tucking the knife back in she thought she might need it. Fi dove into the brown water and swam for the middle of the river. The boat passed just in time as she grabbed the slow moving side and was dragged behind it, down and around the next bend and away from her attackers.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Fears Collide

Michael woke from the pain in his lower back that seemed to run down his legs and settle in behind his knees. Night was approaching fast as he fought to keep his eyes open. The pain was excruciating and worse while they half-dragged him and half-carried him through the forest floor.

Fi made her way through the hotel lobby as elegantly as possible covered in mud and dirt. She fixed her ripped shirt so she was at least decent. Several people stopped to look at her in the grand lobby as she politely smiled and moved on toward her room. She hoped Michael was feeling better and this had all been worthwhile.

"What happened to you?" Sam said as she opened the door.

"That bloody jungle nearly took me down." She said glad to see a friendly face. "Where is Michael, in the bathroom?"

"No, I thought he was with you?" Sam said confused.

"No, he came back hours ago because he wasn't well." She said dripping as she headed to the bathroom.

"Well I have been here for several hours and he isn't here."

Fi popped her head out of the bath door. Sam could hear the water running behind her.

"How long have you been here?" she said as the water filled in the space between words.

"Three hours." Sam said loudly.

Fi looked into the mirror as steam began to build. She needed to get clean, then she needed to find Michael

He woke again when the smell from a sweat stained mattress filled his nostrils making him vomit. A hand pushed at the back of his head as he tried to raise it, and he could feel something cold and wet on his back as words in Spanish were yelled at him.

He couldn't think straight and his head pounded as his body shook from the chills. The pain in his lower body seemed to worsen again and he wished for sleep. Deep sleep to make it all go away.

"You haven't seen him at all." She yelled running the towel through her hair after putting on the fresh dress.

"No, and he isn't answering his phone."

Fi walked toward the muddy back pack she left on the floor and reached inside pulling out the Sat phone. "He wouldn't because I have it."

"You said he was sick, how sick was he?" Sam said concerned.

"He was shivering in the car. I thought he would come right back here."

"I didn't see the car in the parking lot, did you?"

"No, but I wasn't looking." Fi said, caught in her thoughts.

"Maybe he is following a new lead or he went downstairs for something to eat or drink."

Fi looked at Sam. "No Sam. I have known Michael for a long time and I haven't seen him this sick before, except for Jesse's bullet. If he had something, I think he would have waited for us."

"That sick? Huh!"

"So where is he?" she said to herself, but out loud.

"Maybe he went to find a doctor?" Sam said thinking of other alternatives.

Fi looked at Sam, she knew as well as him that Mike would not search out a doctor.

"You are right. That wouldn't happen. If anything, he would be here in bed, and he isn't."

"Sam, this is terrible, but I am starving. I can't think like this. Take me to a late dinner and fill me in on your date."

"I didn't eat yet."

"I thought you were having dinner with . . . a friend."

"Me too, but she cancelled. That is why I am here."

Fi put her finger over her mouth. Being away from home always made her think her room might be bugged.

She grabbed Sam by the arm and led him to the door. "Tell me all about it on the way to dinner."

Michael choked down the liquid as it was poured into his mouth and coughed frequently. The woman that sat above him holding the cup was old, but probably looked older than she was.

"Bebe" she said. "Bebe."

Michael could not understand her, nor did he want to. His Spanish was poor too nonexistent and the pain in his back and legs made it impossible to think of anything else.

The liquid in the cup tasted like water from a sewer and he turned his head to avoid more of it being forced on him. Though she was persistent and turned the cup as he moved.

Finally with a little difficulty the woman stood from her wooden chair and seemed to curse in his direction as she limped off. He knew he needed to drink, he could feel the thirst on his lips, but his stomach could not take what she had. He closed his eyes and sleep found him once again.

Fi put the fork down and wiped her mouth with the napkin. She was hungrier than she originally thought as she listened to Sam's day and he listened to hers. They both agreed on one thing, Michael had not returned. The beds were made, he hadn't changed or showered and being out in that heat, they knew he would have wanted to do both.

After dinner they agreed to drive out the road to the compound, but not too close. She was sure she kicked the bee hive today and it would be swarming. They need to check the last place he was seen, that is of course if he wasn't already back in the room.

Fi charmed her way into another hotel jeep. Her low-cut dress and provocative stance was all the evening manager needed. That and a small wad of cash from Sam. Together they fought the terrible roads full of holes, turns and overgrowths until they saw what they were looking for. There on the side of the road was the Jeep.

Sam let the lights fall on the engine as Fi slid into the front seat where she found the keys still in the ignition. Turning them, there was nothing. The vehicle was dead.

"It's dead Sam."

Sam looked up and down the road and into the darkness before yelling his name.

"MIKE, MIKE CAN YOU HEAR . . . "

Fi cut him off. "Ssshhh Sam. We are pretty close to the compound. Just a little more than a mile." Worry filled her face.

"What if they came looking for me Sam? His car broke down, he was walking and sick . . . " She had a hard time finishing the sentence when the tears started.

Sam hugged her. "We are not going to find him tonight." He took her face in his hands. "We don't know what happened Fi. He could have gotten a lift and be back by now. If not, none of this is your fault, none of it. Tomorrow we will find him. Tonight, I think we should call Jesse."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Please review

Michael woke again to sunlight on his face. He was still hot from the fever and the headache and pain in his lower body returned moments after his eyes opened . . . Looking around the modest room he found it to be neat and sparsely decorated. Two heavy wood chairs sat along the far wall and small windows dotted the stucco walls. Looking up, the ceiling was made of old planks of wood that looked like they had been there for hundreds of years.

It seemed to be a nice and neat modest home, but his mouth was dry and thirst was his main thought for the moment. He needed to find water. He knew that dehydration had set in and he wasn't sure how long he had been lying on the mattress below him. Pushing back a thin wool blanket, he realized that most of his clothing was gone except for his boxers. With no one around, he could not offend and began the long process of sitting up.

The bed beneath him creaked and moaned as he raised to a sitting position and the entire room spun. Closing his eyes he waited for it to subside and pushed himself to a half stand still leaning against the bed. Moving to the end of the bed his legs burned with each step and he feared the chills returning. He inched along and crossed to the far wall leaning against its cool surface. From there he could see a door way and he unsteadily headed that direction.

After a long hall he entered into a larger room with finer furnishing. A table and chairs of remarkable craftsmanship. Off to the side, another entrance into a large, old but well equipped kitchen with a large dark set of doors that opened up to a courtyard. Another entrance led into a living room with comfortable couches, several small seating areas and a small table and chairs with a chess set built in next to a large stone fireplace. Here too there were three large doors that opened up onto the same courtyard. All the doors were open as a breeze passed through the home. Inside he could not see a TV or other electronics and there certainly wasn't a phone.

In the kitchen he found the sink and let the water run, washing his face and neck before filling a thick glass with the cool fresh water and drinking until he could not hold any more down.

"Be careful. I don't want you to get sick." A male voice said behind him.

Michael spun to see the man behind the voice. He was tall with jet black hair and Latin features.

"Did you help me? I mean, bring me here." Michael asked still unsure of many things.

"I did. My brother and I found you yesterday. You were in really bad shape, and you still are. Maybe you should sit."

"I am fine. Thank you, but I need to get back to town."

The man smiled. "You are not as fine as you think you are. When those chills start again you will have a whole new outlook. You should return to bed. My abuela will cook you something."

Michael's stomach churned at the thought of food. "I am not really hungry. Just thirsty. Your Abuela? My Spanish is a little rusty.

"Abuela is grandmother."

"So you live here?"

"Sort of. My family is the caretaker of this country home. They have been for generations. We live in a small home just at the edge of the property. Close to where we found you."

"Caretaker? Your English is excellent."

"The Medinas, the family that own this home gave me a rare gift. They paid for me to go to University in California. That is where my English is from. In exchange, I was to come back and help them run their company. They were not fortunate enough to have children of their own."

"Can you help me get back to town?"

"My sister and my mother have taken the truck for the house to visit some family in the valley. They are not due back for several days. I am afraid until you are a little better you won't be able to walk there."

Michael stood at the sink, holding the side. The exertion seemed to zap his energy. "I'm feeling a little better." He lied. "Maybe you can walk with me. It isn't far, right? My friends will give you a ride back."

"No, not too far. Just over four miles, but you won't make it. The Dengue has a strong grip on you."

"Dengue, like Dengue fever?"

"Yes, my grandmother has seen a lot of it in her life time. She is sure that is what you have. It will get worse before it gets better."

"I need to get back to town. It is important, how about a phone?" Michael said stepping away from the counter and losing his balance."

Miguel caught him and put his arm around his shoulder. "Sorry, no phone. I do think you need to go back to bed."

Michael was too tired to fight and accepted the help. He could feel the chills beginning again. "I would pay you to make the trip for me, what do you think?

Lying back in the bed Michael watched the face of the young man in front of him. He was definitely considering his options.

"Two hundred American dollars." Michael said to sweeten the pot.

"Three." The young man said.

Michael smiled. "We have a deal! Can you give me paper and I will write down the information you will need?"

The man hesitated. "If I leave you, you could be in danger."

"Why?" Michael said confused.

"It is Harvest Season here. Sometimes they send men with guns to come and look for labor. They will take anyone they can find. Sometimes people don't come back."

"They?"

"The ones that grow the plants for drugs. Sometimes they pay, sometimes not and sometimes the workers disappear. It can be a dangerous place."

Michael thought for a few minutes. "If you leave here soon, how long will it take you?"

'Maybe three hours, maybe sooner if your friends are where you say they are."

"Go. I will be fine. What about your grandmother?"

"No, they won't bother her, but maybe my younger brother. I am supposed to watch him for my mother. Make sure he is safe while she is gone."

Michael looked at the young man. He knew his strengths and his weaknesses and he knew how he felt. He knew he would have a hard time defending himself, never mind this family.

"I don't know what to say, but it is important. My friend's life is in trouble by those same people. I think I have a shot at saving him."

Miguel looked at Michael. He didn't have to think long. Michael already knew that this young man was of good character and he could be trusted to make a difficult decision.

"I'll get the paper." He said leaving Michael to his thoughts.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Jesse closed the hood of the jeep. The sting of the mid morning heat had already arrived and he wiped his brow from the sweat that dripped into his eyes.

"You are right Fi. The engine seized, it isn't going anywhere. He wouldn't have been able to fix that, he must have walked back. Maybe he got a ride."

Fi stood next to him wiping the oil from her hands. "No, he would have checked in at the hotel, even if we missed him because we were out I think he would have left some sort of note."

"So where is he?"

Fi stood looking up the road and then she turned and looked toward the overhanging jungle of trees and vines. "I don't know. I don't know where to begin. If that group looking for me found him . . . "

Jesse leaned back trying to crack his back. It was stiff and sore from the plane ride that he had been on less than an hour ago. He could feel himself getting tense as his operation was sliding downhill with each passing hour.

"We still gotta get into that compound. That might be our best shot for both of them. Are you ready for your meeting?" He said trying to get her mind focused.

Fi looked at him strangely. "I am supposed to appear with Michael Weston, burned spy. A man against the government. How is that going to happen? This was confirmed yesterday."

"How about we tell them, he is sick? You said he wasn't well."

"I don't know . . . " She didn't know much of anything at the moment. A simple drive back to the hotel had turned into a nightmare for all of them and she feared mostly for Michael.

"We have less than an hour to get there. We don't have another shot at this. This is go time. Maybe I should just say that I am Michael Weston. He didn't work much in South America, maybe they won't know the difference."

"And if they do, we are dead. They are not forgiving people."

"Does that mean you will do it?"

Fi threw her arms up in the air. "I think we tell them he is sick."

Miguel walked into the lobby of the Colonial Hotel. Its air-conditioned room felt good on his skin after nearly two hours in the heat of the morning sun. He found the bathroom, washed his face and drank a long time from the sink. It was hotter out that he expected. From there he headed to the elevator and caught the left one up to the fourth floor and found the room number Michael had given him. He knocked several times, some louder than others. A guest next door opened his door and peaked out. Miguel just waved and smiled.

He returned to the lobby to find the concierge.

She was a young lady with bright green eyes and long brown hair neatly pulled back to a ponytail. Here green uniform fit her well as she looked up from the desk she had been writing on.

"Excuse me Miss, can you help me please?"

She smiled at this handsome man in front of her. "What can I do for you?" she said standing and offering him a seat.

He gladly accepted, nearly falling into the rattan chair. "I need to leave a message for a guest.

"Yes, of course. Which one?"

"Ms Glenanne."

"I can ring her room for you."

"No, thank you. I already tried knocking."

"I did see her leave a while ago. She came to speak to me about a problem with a rental car. Would you like to wait for her to return? We have a lovely café with good coffee."

Miguel smiled at the girl. He had forgotten how beautiful women from his own country could be. "Only if you join me." He said crinkling the fresh dollars in his pocket.

She hesitated and looked at the clock above the front desk.

"All right, but I only have about 15 minutes before I must get back."

"Me too." He answered with a grin.

"Acostarse! Acostarse!" The words were yelled at him as he came out of his fog of fever. Strong hands grabbed him and pulled at his arms. Yanking him from the bed and his delirium.

He shook all over as he was dragged from the house and out into the yard. A foot to the back of his knees brought him down hard. His stomach churned up into the back of his throat and he held it down as much as he could.

There he knelt, but just barely as focused on staying upright. A figure was dragged next to him and a third. It was the elderly lady that had forced him to drink her vile potion and a young boy about 11 or 12.

A truck backed up and stopped just a few yards away. The grandmother was yelling and the young boy just wept. Michael had been warned this might happen, but was powerless to do anything about it until now.

"I will go peacefully if you let them go." He said from his spot in the dirt and then repeating it louder.

A man with sweat stained clothing and an odor of filth came close to Michael's face. His breath smelled of tobacco and rotten teeth. "Gringo, you will do what you are told. Do you understand? They do!" he said pointing at the others inside the truck as a flap of canvas was pulled back to reveal several men and young boys.

Michael turned his head away from the stench. "I am going to give you one last chance. Let them go and I will go without a problem."

The man laughed revealing the amount of teeth that remained in his mouth as Michael swung his leg around, hitting him in the ankles and knocking him from his feet into the dirt. From the man's ankle he grabbed the long thick knife and grabbed a second man walking by. With a twist the man was down on the ground with Michael's foot on his wind pipe. His eyes closed in seconds his air was depleted.

Michael went for a third man who was coming out of the truck and pushed the large metal door back at him knocking him back into the cab of the truck. The man corrected himself, swung and missed while Michael punched through the open window hitting him squarely in the jaw and the man fell from the seat, wedging himself into the open space.

Turning and jumping from the truck, Michael could see two men approaching one held machete and the other a gun. He needed to close the gap. Throw them off. He dug in deep and sprinted toward them, the man raised his gun as Michael got close and fired as Michael connected with his elbow hard into his throat jumping up and then down into the man. He crumbled as the gun fell from his hand and slid under the truck.

The man with the machete swiped at Michael's arm and barely connected. Blood drizzled down his upper arm as he firmly held his own knife between his hand and wrist. He watched the man swing again narrowly missing him and he bolted for his wrist. He needed to control the hand that held the weapon and threaten with his other, but he never saw the rifle butt as it came from behind and hit his head hard. The man with the missing teeth growled over him. Michael's vision blurred from the ground beneath the back wheel of the truck. He had seconds, maybe two, but enough to see the grandmother leading the boy away though the thick trees on the other side. Darkness came quickly after that.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Open Arms

Sam watched from behind his paper as the young man flirted with the young girl behind the desk and he smiled again remembering his own talents. He was pleasantly surprised when she put up a small desk sign that said she would return in 15 minutes and the two of them walked toward the café at the other end of the lobby.

"That-a-go boy!" he said to himself before looking at his watch. Fi had been gone a little over an hour and finding the jeep again in the light. She had called him with an update. The jeep was dead and still no sign of Michael. They would go to the meeting and get an order for guns, weapons and explosives that they would never deliver, but it would get them in the compound. It would allow them to check out the buildings, the security and force behind all of it.

Now Sam waited. He needed to speak with this girl at the desk. The jeep needed to be towed and Sam needed the driver. He needed someone that knew the area. A tow driver would be familiar, at least he hoped. If Michael had not been picked up by men from the compound, maybe someone else helped him or not. Maybe there were other elements out there. Without a helicopter and a guide they couldn't search, and all that would attract too much attention. No, a tow driver with a little information could go a long way.

Sam finished his paper just as the two returned smiling and chatting as they did. She returned to her desk and Sam watch as she flirted back. The young man lingered for a few minutes more before stepping away and out the door but not before he took one more look. Sam approached the young lady who still held her bright smile.

"Good morning." He said politely.

"Good morning." She returned. "How may I help you?" her English was nearly perfect.

"My colleague, Fiona Glennanne rented a jeep for a few days."

"Yes, I remember." She said back to him.

"I am afraid, she will need a tow truck. The jeep has broken down."

The young lady looked upset. "I am so sorry. I will send someone to collect her right away."

"Oh, that is OK. She is already back and out shopping, but I can show the driver where the vehicle is."

"I will give the shop a call. It may be a little while. Would you mind giving Ms. Glenanne a note for me?"

"Sure." He said confused. "I can do that." As she handed him the note. "I will wait over here for the driver, is that all right?"

"No problem Mr.?"

"Mr. Finley." Sam answered.

Sam walked back to his paper. He could start his crossword puzzle while he waited. In his hand the small folded paper. He opened it and read the note.

Fi,

I am safe but sick so I can't get to you. I am with a family that thinks I have Dengue Fever and they do not have transportation. They say I will be fine in a few days, but we cannot wait for that. This boy will show you where I am, at the Medina Country home.

Mike

Turning around quickly he said to the girl, "Who gave you this note?"

"That young man I was just talking to." She said nonchalantly, as she pointed to the doors he had just left through.

Sam ran for the doors and out them into the parking lot, looking around quickly. From the corner of his eye he could see the young man getting into a taxi about 20 meters away.

"Hey wait, wait." Sam yelled, but the taxi left.

Returning to the girl "Did he say anything else to you?"

"Well, a few things." She said looking almost embarrassed and confused. "Is everything all right?"

Sam looked at her, not knowing how much to say. "He has some information for me, will you see him again today."

"No, not today."

" Do you know where the Medina country home is?"

"No, but the driver of the tow truck might? He should be here soon."

"Thank you." Sam said as he walked back to his paper. At the moment there wasn't much he could do. He only hoped Mike was OK. He was familiar with the virus. It could be bad.

Jesse pulled the car to the front gate of the stone wall. The wall was at least three meters in height and nearly covered in old growth from the surrounding forest. The gate was of blue iron with several men milling in front and behind it. It would not be easy to get by unless they had permission.

Fi sat in the backseat, her hair pulled up in a bun and her blue linen dress wrinkled slightly from the ride. He heels didn't go with the terrain, but they would go far at the meeting. She reapplied the light pink lip gloss and closed the snaps on her leather brief case. She was set for her meeting.

"Fiona Glenanne to see Mr. Manuela." Jesse said as a guard approached the car. Fi kept her eyes open and her hand on the trigger of her weapon neatly placed between the door and the seat.

"Abre!" the man yelled as.

The gate opened inward as the men around the gate backed away, but remained with their hands on their weapons. This was always a tense moment in a meeting. Trust must be earned and not by reputation only.

The car entered the compound, the lush green lawns and brilliant flower beds lined the front of the palatial home of tan stucco. Rich deep woods of varying size and color were built into the very framework of the building. The front door was high above the gravel driveway and Fi wondered just how many step there were to get up there. As they pulled in front, a man began to come down the stairs. He wore khaki pants and a Cuban linen shirt of fine quality. A sentry opened the door for Fiona as the man reached the bottom stair and offered her a hand to exit.

Fi used the moment well. She slid out her long tan and shapely legs to the ground as her dress slid up to her upper thighs. The man kept his eyes on them as she stood.

"Hello Miss Glenanne. I am Carlo, Mr. Manuela's assistant." Carlo looked into the car and then to Jesse.

"Hello." She noticed him looking at Jesse. "This is my assistant, Trace."

"We were expecting the infamous Mr. Weston." He said surprised not to see him in the car.

"Mr. Weston is under the weather and will join us on a later day."

Carlo paused for a moment before continuing. "Are you hungry? . Lunch will be served on the front terrace shortly?"

Fi smiled and looked at Jesse. "I think we would both enjoy that, thank you."

Carlo looked at Jesse and frowned slightly before gesturing to the steps for Fi. She began to climb but turned half way up as she could hear the engine of a tuck as it entered through the gate behind her. She glanced at Jesse and he looked at her. Guests were always unwanted at a party that was already over flowing.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Into Hell

Michael came to on the floor of a filthy truck as it bounced and dipped through the rough Bolivian roads. The odors of sweat and fear made his eyes open as he could see a young man, maybe 16 maybe younger crying softly and leaning into an older man as they sat on a wooden bench that lined one side. Several other men sat with them and the other side held the same, men and boys, with one woman. Young with long black curly hair. She kept her face looking down to the ground and let her hair fall in front of it. Afraid of looking up or being noticed.

The back of Michael's head ached, but not as badly as the pain behind his eyes or his back and legs. He struggled to sit up and shook from the fever that persisted well into this new day. An older man sitting close to him grabbed his arm and helped him steady himself, then lean back against the wall that led to the trucks cab. The man placed his fingers over his lips to quiet him and point to the two men that sat at the rear of the truck. Each held a weapon and seemed to be in charge of the trucks cargo; live humans.

"Hablas Espanol?" the man whispered to him.

Michael recognized the question and shook his head no.

"You are sick, with fever?" The man asked in broken but good enough English.

"I am. Do you know where we are going?"

"I don't. I don't want to guess."

Michael nodded in understanding. He would have to bide his time. Anything he did, could get everyone killed. He needed to wait.

"Do you have any water?" Michael said, feeling the thirst growing within him minute by minute and knowing he needed to drink soon.

"No, there wasn't time."

"You were taken from your home too."

"Si, and my son Ernesto. He is over there. My name is Javier."

"I'm Michael." He said, shaking his hand.

Michael looked across the truck to a young man in his 20's who was watching the two of them. Michael nodded at the man who returned the gesture.

"How long was I out?"

The man looked at him confused.

Michael repeated the sentence and pretended with his hands to be sleeping.

"Oh, oh, No se. I don't know. You were in here when we arrived."

"How long ago was that?"

The man thought for a moment. "Maybe an hour, maybe more."

"Have we been driving that whole time?"

"No, we have stopped twice to pick up people."

"Does this happen a lot?"

"No, no. Only soon."

"Soon? You mean this just started?"

"Yes, yes. A few months, maybe."

"Why?"

The truck came to a screeching halt as the passengers were jostled forward slightly. Michael gritted his teeth from the pain. Then it moved forward slowly, the truck bounced back and forward violently as it rolled over rough terrain.

The two men in the rear stood, holding the sides. Michael knew that now was a good time to take them since they were off balance, but he wasn't up to it. He didn't have the strength to get to them quickly. The fight at the country home had taken what strength he had left. He would have to build it up again. For now he would have to go where he was led.

"Ah, Ms. Glenanne. So nice to meet you." The man in front of her was tall and built. His skin a dark tan as well as his eyes and his hair. He was pleasant to look at even for a man well into his 60's. "I am Manuela." He said holding out his hand.

"Nice to meet you too." Fi said with a genuine smile as she took his large firm hand into hers. She liked attractive men.

Manuela looked at Jesse. "Mr. Weston, we have heard so much about you." He said. Please sit and have lunch.

The round table was set elegantly for an out door lunch. The large fan above made the heat disappear.

"Manuela this is actually my assistant, Trace. Michael was not able to join us today, but he will be at our future meetings.

"Nice to meet you, Trace." Manuela said grabbing his hand firmly. Jesse noted the power in the large mans hands and the roughness of his palms. He was a man that frequently had his hands in his business and Jesse did not have to shake them to know what they could do.

"Thank you. The pleasure is all mine." Jesse said glancing at Fiona.

Manuela watched the truck roll past the front of the house and stop just out of sight to the left. Landscaping around the home blocked their view. Several men could be seen running to the truck as Manuela raised his hands.

"They are here! Come, come! I want my guests to see this." His voice was powerful and commanding.

Manuela held out his hand for Fi as she came around the table. He could see from her shoes that she would not enjoy climbing down the stairs again. Though he did enjoy how she looked in them.

Fi accepted his hand and together they climbed down.

"Vete, vete." Men screamed into the truck as the back canvas flap was opened and bright light filled the dank space.

"Vamos con Dios." Javier said, making the sign of the cross and reaching out to help Michael up. One by one they jumped down from the back of the truck and were moved off to the side.

Michael arrived at the gate. He could see the girl getting dragged toward the main building. When he was ready to jump a man with a gun pointed it at him and readied the gun to fire.

"Con cuidado, be careful my friend." Javier said looking back before he was violently shoved forward to the crowd.

Michael jumped down and immediately dropped to his knees. It took what strength he had left to get back to his feet before the gun butt hit his shoulder blade and he was pushed forward.

"I hate for you to ruin your shoes." Manuela said as she reached the white gravel driveway, looking down at the legs that held the heels.

Fi noticed that he looked at more that the strappy sandals. "I will be fine, thank you." She said and began moving forward past the tree that blocked their view. Men were hoping down off the truck, and in their arms large rough cotton bags.

"Look, look this is my first harvest! My first fully grown crop." There was much excitement in his voice.

Fi looked at him surprised. "What is it?" she asked.

"Coffee, the new drug of choice." Manuela said patting Jesse on the shoulder firmly.

The men continued to unload the coffee.

Manuela beamed with delight at the sight of the bags. The truck was full to the brim of the rough coffee bags.

"Come, let us have lunch now and fine coffee. We have much to talk about."

Fi and Jesse looked at each other. Confusion filled their eyes.

Michael shuffled over to the others. They stood in a compound made up of high walls of stucco, most of it crumbling and overgrown. Several areas were patched with old trees and wood. The main building stood in the middle and it too was old and decrepit. Most of the grass in the compound was dead and dying as it was trampled by the men that walked around, many running. Some wearing camouflages and carrying weapons. It was chaos and disorganization.

A man in front walked forward. He was dressed nicely in a linen suit and fine shoes. A hat covered his dark hair "Welcome to my future empire. Those that work hard will be rewarded and those that don't, well."

He pointed to the far corner where an old man stood in tattered clothing. His hands tied behind his back and two men stood in front of him, each with a weapon. The men waited and watched until the man in the suit raised his hand. Then one of them raised their gun and pulled the trigger shooting the old man in the head. A spray of blood hit the wall as he collapsed in a heap.

The small crowd gasped as the two men dragged the dead man away.

Michael looked at Javier next to him. "What is this place?"

"I think it is Hell" He answered


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Light Fare Sorry for the delay. Life has a few twists.

Sam sat in the passenger seat of the old tow truck as it bounced along the bad roads of the back country leading out from the center of town. His window was down as the AC was not working and the heat humidity and bugs entered the cab of the truck at will. He tortured through the Spanish conversation of Pablo the driver as his Spanish was less than perfect. He hated South America and he had good reason to do so.

After several gut wrenching holes, the truck finally pulled up next to the jeep. It was still intact and Sam was pleasantly surprised since he had spent several years in and around the Miami area. An abandoned car wouldn't have lasted this long in downtown Miami. He had a picture of a vehicle up on blocks in his mind.

Pablo went to work on the engine; opening it up, pushing on this and that, trying the keys in the ignition before pronouncing it dead. Sam on the other hand believed this time was a waste, better spent looking for his friend Mike. When the vehicle was hooked up to the back of the tow truck, Sam again ventured into his Spanish to ask for directions. It was difficult, at best, but Pablo had been given specific instructions from the young woman in the lobby of the hotel. He was to retrieve the car, the hotel's property and then the hotels guest that had been trapped out there over night.

Pablo drove the vehicle a few hundred yards down the road from where the broke down vehicle had been and turned onto what looked like an overgrown forest. Sam soon realized that it opened out to a courtyard and then a spectacular home surrounded by lush gardens and tropical flowers.

"Aqui es su amigo." Pablo said.

Sam smiled understanding everything he was saying, which wasn't much.

Sam stepped from the truck and asked Pablo to wait.

"Espera por favor." Sam said in his broken Spanish and even worse accent.

The man smiled.

Sam knocked on the front door several times as the thick weathered wood showed him the magnificence of the house. Its deep rich texture and hand-crafted hardware were a treat to look at.

"You know good stuff when you see it Mikey." He said to himself as he waited for someone to answer.

When no one did, he began to walk around the grounds

Sam could only hear the birds in the trees as he rounded the corner of the home on his way to the back looking for windows into the soul of the building. He wondered what it would tell him and what he would find.

Sweat tricked down his back from the heat and humidity that hung in the air. It was thick and today would be brutal. At the back he found an entrance to the kitchen and the interior beauty of this country estate. The door was ajar and swung easily open. Sam paused for a moment before entering. He knew the Bolivian people were friendly, but even they would have a problem with a stranger just entering.

"Hello, hello," he began. "Is anybody home? I am looking for Michael. MIKE, MIKE can you hear me? Still, nothing.

Cautiously he moved forward into the dark wood of the room and the delicate carvings. "Mike, are you in here?" Sam said again and getting no reply. "HELLLLLOOOOOOO" he yelled as loud as he could just as he heard a loud click in the room just ahead of him. "Crap, that better not be a gun!" he whispered to himself.

"Hello. I am looking for my amigo, Mi amigo, su ayudas." He said in poor Spanish. The click turned to foot steps coming at him quick. Sam looked around in case he needed to get away fast. Except for the island in the center of the kitchen and heading back out the door, he was out of luck.

The foot steps reached the door as Sam strained his eyes in the dim interior and reached behind him to place his fingers around the Glock at the back of his pants.

"Your amigo no esta aqui." Said the voice." He no here." The voice said it rounded the corner.

Sam was relieved to see the tow truck driver standing in front of him. "Are we are at the right house?" He asked.

"Si, este es la casa, pero no esta aqui."

Sam understood. This was the right house, but he wasn't here. "OK, where? Donde?" Sam asked.

A small boy of maybe 10 or 12 appeared behind the driver. "They took him, just a few hours ago."

Sam swallowed hard. "Who took him?"

The boy looked up, sadness filled his face. "The Cartel."

Sam took a step back and looked at the boy. He could tell if someone was lying, he was good at it, he was telling the truth. "Why?"

Fi placed the fork on plate and gently wiped her mouth with the soft linen napkin that had been on her lap as a young man removed her plate and a second asked it she would like her wine refilled. She declined. Two was her limit for business, and this was after all business. At least she thought. Not was not quite sure of what to make of a truck filled with coffee from one of the largest drug lords in the southern hemisphere.

"Did you enjoy your meal?" Manuela asked.

"Yes, thank you. It was fabulous." Giving Jesse a glare as he continued to eat while the other plates were being cleared.

Manuela watched him eat. "It looks like you both enjoyed it, Yes?" he said loudly slapping Jesse on the back.

Jesse looked up to realize that he was being rude and stopped eating. He had forgotten how hungry he was. Fi's call last night had interrupted his dinner plans and with arraignments and excitement this morning, he had not eaten in a while and the meal was excellent. A far cry from Madeline's pot pie. "Yes, thank you. Forgive my manners." He began. It was too good not to finish."

"I am glad you liked it." Manuela said. "Shall we get down to business?

" I understand you are in need of a little light weight product and possibly for something even a little…stronger." Fi knew with recording devices and satellites that could watch you in the bath, she knew to be careful with her conversation.

Manuela smiled, he knew the dance. "I am afraid I have brought you here under false pretenses."

The hair on the back of Jesse's neck stood on end. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked you to come because I have heard rumors that you work very closely with Michael Westen, is this true?" He said directly at Fi.

"It is, Michael and I are friends and he will be sorry he wasn't feeling up to this meeting." "My intention was to have you come and bring him."

"Why?" Jesse inquired quickly, but not before Fi shot him a look. Drug lords did not like impatience.

"Why indeed!" The man sat back and lifted his glass. " I am afraid I do not need any product at this time, but your Mr. Weston has a habit of getting a job done while others around him fail."

Fi looked at the man as he sipped his wine and glanced at Jesse. "You want to hire us?" She said shocked by this mans response.

"I do, my son-in-law has been taken and I need you to find him."

"Your son-in-law?" Jesse said, nearly spitting out the words.

"He was taken by the man that has taken over my prior business. It is his way of sending me a message. A message to get out!"


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15-

Michael woke in the darkness, shivering from the fever that encompassed him. He was near delirium as his body fought an ongoing internal war. Beneath him, cool earth that smelled of minerals and fungi, mixed with the protein smell of blood that had congealed on his face and neck. He fought to roll his body over from the prone position and did so after much trying. He was well aware that he was physically in trouble, if not mentally.

He could feel hands reach for him, touching his upper arms and then his face, but he could not see anything. After all he had been through in the last day or two, he pushed them away as best he could.

"It is OK. I am a friend. I am glad you are alive. You didn't look like you would make it last night." A voice whispered in perfect English.

Michael's mind fought to comprehend the voice and the words that emanated toward him.

"Are you sure I'm alive? I dreamed that death would feel something like this."

"Good, a sense of humor! Stay here."

Michael could feel the man move away from him, but in the darkness he couldn't see, only hear it. He returned in just a few moments.

"You have to drink." He said as Michael could feel a few drips of water on his neck and chest from the leaky cup that hovered just above him. "Come on, I will help you sit up."

A hand went behind his back and pushed him up slightly as the metal cup was pressed against his lips.

"Drink!" The voice nearly commanded. "Before the guards return."

Michael did so, slowly at first, then at almost at a ravenous pace until the cup was dry, but it was too fast and the coughing started immediately.

" Sshh . . . Be quiet. They will hear you."

Michael stifled the cough from the back of his throat and pressed his hand against the opening of his mouth, stemming the natural desire to cough.

"Good, I will get more water." And he was gone.

Half way through the second cup, Michael slowed his pace and even stopped. The burning in his throat had been soothed and the thirst partially quenched.

"Thank you." He choked out and held out his hand. "Michael."

The man took the hand and shook, whispering back. "Nice to meet you Michael, I'm Juan."

"Thanks again Juan. So where am I? Things are a little fuzzy."

" I am not surprised. You are a guest of the cartel."

""Great!" Michael said closing his eyes and lowering himself back to the earth. "I suppose talking to them will get me nowhere."

Juan laughed a subdued chuckle. "You must really be out of it, you tried that last night and I am still not sure how you survived. That group of men tossed you around like a rag doll. You were their nightly game."

Michael searched his memory. His last one was an hour or more after getting off the truck. They had been made to stand in the courtyard, to learn and watch. The heat was stifling. Michael was sure it was nearly 100 with a humidity to match. His friend, Javier had tried, but after so much time, he collapsed falling to his knees. A guard picked up on the weakness and pushed at him. His son stepped forward, but was halted by his fathers raised hand and defiant look. His son reluctantly obeyed.

Michael watched as the guard pushed the old man down in the dirt each time he started to rise. On the third try, as the guard laughed and joked he called another to watch. After several more attempts, the joking began to escalate, with taunting and bruising. Weak and injured, Mike could take no more. The next time the guard pushed the old man, Mike raised his foot and back kicked him in the kidneys sending the man flying across the yard. The prisoners held their breaths, but the guards laughed at their comrade.

"Shut up." He yelled back at them as he picked himself from the dirt and stormed at Michael. Michael sideswiped the man's approach as he again fell face first into the dirt with a burst of laughter from his friends.

Angry, and humiliated the man approached again. This time more cautiously. Yelling at Mike in Spanish; none of which he could understand. Mike could hear some sort of chant from the other guards begin, encouraging him on. The guard swung again and Mike blocked the blow, holding back a response from his own fist. Knowing that such an movement might mean death.

A second swing and a third swing were blocked as Mike pushed the man over and past him into the dirt again. This insect of a man was losing his patience. Mike looked around, but he knew he was alone. His adversary grabbed a knife from one of the other guards as they helped him up and a large chant again came from the onlookers.

Watching the knife, Michael swung wide and back as he slashed at him. A near miss, but it was enough. As the man was off balance and turning from his maneuver, Mike stepped in, his back to the man, his right hand grabbing the thumb and wrist of the knife wielder and pushing it out and away. His fingers working to separate the thumb's grip from the knife and swiftly succeeded. It fell to the dirt as Mike swung his left elbow up and back hitting the man squarely in the nose, breaking it instantly. The gush of blood spurting out and around as the man fell backwards gripping his face in his hands, and screaming.

At first, the other guards stood in stunned silence, but it wasn't for long. What had been sport only moments before had grown personal and Michael was their new target, only this time they would not be laughing. He fought gallantly, but their numbers were overpowering and in minutes, Michael was on the ground, blows coming from all directions. He couldn't remember more.

"Juan, I need to get out of here. I'm sick and bruised, the longer I stay the weaker I will get. Can you help me?"

Juan was silent. "I don't know if there is a way out. I have only been here a few days. It feels like months. They work you until you cannot stand anymore, then when you fall, they beat you until you get up. When you can't get up, that is when they shoot you. To them, we are just labor and nothing more. I don't know anyone, other than guards that have been here for more than a few weeks. They just don't care if we die, they just go and get more."

Michael lay listening to Juan and the malice he had witnessed during his short stay. They were miles from anything other than the road they came in on. The compound well hidden in the overgrowth of the surrounding foliage. Difficult to see from above and well watched from inside. Michael's illness may be his downfall. Sick and weak, he would be no match for the surrounding area. He knew he needed a good plan.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 Trusted Enemy

Melting ice clinked together at the bottom of the glass as it was placed down onto the rich deep wood of the open bar. A drop of condensation slid down the side joining a growing ring beneath it. Sam swiped at it with his hand spreading the water across the bar and nodded a yes when asked if he would like another.

The deep color of the bartenders brown skin was in contrast by his starched white and neatly pressed jacket. Sam watched as he tipped the bottle and the golden liquid filled his glass one more time.

"Hi Sam. Is Mike up in the room? I need to talk to him. " Fi asked as she waved down the bartender while sliding in next to him and patting him on the back.

"No." He replied somberly.

Fi looked around and then at Sam. "So where is he?"

Sam took a large gulp from the glass in front of him. "He's not here."

"So where is he?" She asked, eyeing his drink with envy.

"He's gone." Sam said, lifting the glass again for another shot.

"Gone where?" She said, waiting while her wine was poured. "I have a job for him." She said with a lilt in her voice.

"I have been trying to call you all day Fi. You and Jesse. Don't you answer the phone?" He said.

Fi put the glass down that she had raised to her lips. The flirtatious almost humorous release from her stressful day slipping away. "Where is Mike, Sam.?" She said soberly as her eyes met his.

"Mikes not here, because he wasn't at the house. He was taken."

"Taken?"

"Taken to . . . well . . . I just don't know." He said with an increasing frustration in his voice while raising his glass again to his lips.

Fi gave him her best look and grabbed the glass with her finger, applying just enough pressure for him to lower it back to the growing puddle

" Sam, what do you mean, you don't know?" Fi replied, anxiety building in her own voice.

Sam explained his findings from the day. The family could tell him very little and the driver, even less. The cartel was something people talked about, but pinpointing their whereabouts was an entirely different set of rules. No one was talking. No one, and for Sam, that was more than frustrating.

Fi sat back in her chair and listened to his story unfold, then holding her wine then she began her own story. She told Sam about the job they now had or might have if they could locate Mike.

"So you are telling me that Mikey might be in the middle of the same compound that we are trying to get Jonathan Cooper out of?" Sam finished his sentence, leaned heavily in his chair and drained his glass.

Fi gulped from hers. "Yes, but now we will be working for the man Michael was suppose to bring to justice for his new job, our new life"

Both of them raised their glass. "Bartender!"

Morning broke in the Jungles of Bolivia with a raw reminder that the heat and humidity made the daytime air thick to breathe. Even the nightfall gave little relief from the heat except from the rays of the scorching sun. The hum of life outside the walls seemed to take on new intensity as the sun rose through the dense foliage.

Michael could hear movement behind him as the souls in the room were roused from their sleep by the guards who were yelling commands in Spanish. He sat up slowly and waited for the storm in his head to abate before trying to move anymore or any faster

.Next to him in a pile of old leaves curled on his side, was a man. His face was familiar and Michael shook him before the guards made their way down to his corner of the room.

Looking at his face as he sat up too, Michael recognized him.

"Coop?" He said with a dry throat.

The man looked at him and returned with his name, and there was the voice from the darkness of the night before.

"Thanks for the help last night." Michael said, eyeing one of the guard as he made his way closer, but he stopped and returning to the entrance when he knew all of them were awake. There were at least 20, maybe more sleeping on beds made of materiels from the yard. There were no blankets, mattresses or beds. Straw was a commodity, but mostly old leaves. The people he recognized from the arrival the day before, ragged, and scared.

Coop looked at him strangely, still waking and spoke while Michael worked his mind through the crowded room. "If I had known it was you Westen, I would have left you to die."

Michael's eyes stopped the cursory evaluation and focused on Coop. Not sure what he heard was true. Coop looked as ragged as the others with sunburn to his neck and face. His beard had begun to fill in, but not completely. Filth and dirt caked his clothing and hands while the skin below showed small gashes and abrasions.

"What kind of place is this Coop?" Michael asked.

"It is a crap hole and it looks like the place you left me in the last time I saw you."

Michael's mind ran through scenarios of his past. Coop had been an agent, like him, though they had mostly passed in the halls Michael did have the privilege of working with him on a few occasions, though rare and it was a privilege. Coop was good, probably better than Mike overall. He was quick on his feet and witty with his thoughts when he needed to be. It made Michael shudder as he looked around.

"When?"

"When! Coop laughed. "Four years ago when you conveniently moved to Miami. I was your back up on that little plan to buy loyalty from the scum of the earth, but when you walked, I had to clean up that mess. Those dirt bags worked on me for a week while I was their guest in a small hole that smelled of piss whenever the temperature went above 90. As I am sure you remember, THAT WAS ALL THE TIME!"

Michael could see the anger in his face. "I didn't know I had back up. You know the agency doesn't always tell you. I had no idea Coop. I was in the middle of negotiating when they burned me- for crimes I didn't commit. Left me out in the cold and I know what your captors were like. They planned to put a bullet in the base of my skull too, but not before they nearly kicked me to death. I was lucky to get out, but it was never my choice to leave or have the op go bad. I am sorry."

Coop was quiet for a moment while he contemplated the words pouring from Michael. He had been surprised by his actions four years ago and if he hadn't been caught up in the aftermath, he probably would have been skeptical of the entire scenario after knowing Michael Westen's work, but the scars remain and so do the memories of that awful week as well as the doubts.

"So, what are you doing in Bolivia? Did a drug deal go bad or just vacationing?

"Actually Coop, I am here to help you."


End file.
